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«2 pmense sat‘sfaction.. "Now, what mun Iput i‘ th‘ end?: My name or yourn?" "Put ‘James Vose has wrote this letter for Will‘um Barnes.‘" "James Vose," wrote the owner th ename with his best flourish, a then he paused in dismn{]. *‘"‘Theer‘s no room fur th‘ rest." "Ebh, we‘l, thou mun just put thy mark, Willâ€"theer, seeâ€"i‘ yon little "I fancy I con," replied Jimmy, and he did, in a rather cramped and downâ€" hill fashion. ‘"Theer !" he added, conâ€" templating bis handiwork with imâ€" hint / * * Te l ut 74 +.: > wihinacoss Pb nc ic ‘"Eb, but I‘d like another word or two about Paenley," cried Will. ‘‘See, Jimmy, just dot down as we‘ sall be fain to see his back. Squeeze it in i‘ th‘ corner, lad, cannot thou?" ‘"Paper‘s near full," remarked Jimâ€" my, after laboriously inditing his senâ€" tence in his sprawling hand. "And put," pursued Tommy, "Theer isn obry in th eplace as ‘ull not gi‘ him th‘ best 0‘ c‘racters." Jimmy wrote "He hasn‘t got no conscience." "‘*Ereâ€"wait a bitâ€"what‘s all yo‘r hurry ?" cried Tommy, rather in a fluster. ‘"We han‘t said ‘alf enough about thee ,Will. Sitha, Jimmy, write as he‘s a honest respectable mon, as his feyther were afore him." "A bonest, respectable mon," reâ€" fieahed the boy, grinding with his pen, is eyes round, and his tongue protrudâ€" ing, "hisâ€"feytherâ€"wereâ€"afore him." "I‘m sorry to say as he hasn‘t got no conscience," dictated Will, his thoughts still turning vengefully to Penley. and@ looked up inquiringly. "Mun I write fortyâ€"five, or fiveâ€"andâ€" forty ?" he asked.* "Fiveâ€"andâ€"forty," said Will, with a certain _dolorous satisfaction. "Hasto gotten‘ 5 down ?" tlAh.'I ‘"Well, then, now ‘fnt 40." Jimmy obeyed and the legend was duly set forth that William Barnes had' worked on the property 540 year. "Hasto wrote fortyâ€"five year ?" asked his uncle. "Fiveâ€"an‘â€"forty I'!‘eur I" corrected Will "fiveâ€"an‘â€"forty! h ‘dear !" | Jimmy, who had begun to write 45, unoare‘{out the figures with his finger, anÂ¥ looked up inquiringly. _ _ > Seratch, scratch went on Jimmy‘s pen, very fine and slanty in the upâ€" strokes, whereas the downâ€"strokes had rather a humpbacked appearance. _ _ "EKh, thou‘d never be fur dearin‘ a barrowknight!" cried Tommy, much scandalized. _ "He‘d think thou was makkin‘ a dale too free." i ue ‘‘Hasto wrote, ‘Dear Sir John‘t" asked Will, without poticing him. ‘"‘Theer, Jimmy," said Tommy, perâ€" emptorily ."'|ust. put ‘Honored Sir,‘ an‘ ha‘ done wi‘t." J imm‘y. beinfi an ingenious lad, solved the difficulty by writing Honored Sir on the top of the page, and Dear Sir John immediately beneath it adding on his own responsibility, "I hope you are quite well"â€"the invariable juvenile formula in be'ginnlng“a letter. SiMMews Slases M uts & Pikb. ulc f w e begin wi‘ sayin‘ as Penley isn‘t givin‘ satisfaction.‘ ‘*Now then," cried Will, warming to his subject, "tell him as Master Penley Is not givin‘ satisfaction ‘ereâ€"fur from it." ‘"‘Nay, lad, nay, best start wi‘ sayin‘ as Will‘um Barnes‘ as just getten notice to leave an‘ niver look‘d for‘t, an‘ he‘s been wortchin‘ ‘ere fortyâ€"five "Nay, nay," mumbled Will; "t‘ud be well enough fur a beginnin‘, but I‘m a plain mon, an‘ I doubt I couldn‘t keep it up. Write ‘Dear Sir John,‘ Jimmy, theer‘s a good lad." . "‘Ark at th‘ lad!" cried his uncle admiringly. "He‘d be fur writin‘ straight off I welly believel Eh, but thou mun ha‘ patienceâ€"we mun think, thou knows. Now, Will, owd _ brid, what saysto ‘Honored Sir,‘ to start wi ?" Jim sat himself _ down at _ once, spreading out his paper eagerly, and dipping his pen in the ink with a flourish. "Well, what mun I say? How mun I begin "? Little Jim, Tommy‘s nephew, was sasily lured froimn home by the prospect of a jamâ€"butty, and on being further promised twopence to buy sugarâ€"sticks, jubilantly consented to act as scribe. Duly furnished with pen, ink, and paperâ€"objects not to be looked for in Tommy‘s establishmentâ€"the pair set off with soleran and important faces WIll awaiting them in no small excite ment. Th‘ owd lad ‘ull not be fur wortchin‘ mich onywheer if he dunnot look up. He dunnot stan‘ knockin‘ about." "Best be off aâ€"whoam," be said, I‘ll tak‘ these here tools back to th‘ shed, and foller thee. An‘ I‘ll fetch our Jim along o‘ me to write th‘ letter." Will obeyed without protest, Tommy looking after him anxiously. Tommy looked at him dubiously when the bell rang at half past fivm He was comparatively cheerful durâ€" ing the rest of the day, though his pallid face and trembling © limbs beâ€" trayed that the shock had told on him. Will looked up admiringly, the tears still on bhis wrinkled cheeks, but & doubtful smile beginning to creep about his tremtbling old lips. "Ehâ€"doesto think it ?" "I‘m sure on‘t. .Sir John‘s ackip 0‘ th‘ owd block when all‘s said an‘ done. He knows nowt o‘ yon felly‘s doin‘s; but we‘s tell him." Will laughed shrilly. "Ah, we‘s tell himâ€"an‘ then we‘ll see summat. Eh, Tommy, I‘d be fain to get a seet 0° Penley‘s back." "Ab," said Will, "tell him thot, but tyear !" he said. In the sudden terrible upbeaval of all around him, this was the one piece of solid ground which remained beneath his feet. "We‘s write to bhim," cried Tommy. "We‘s send him a line to let him know yon chap‘s goin‘sâ€"on. Very like it‘s him as ‘ull get th‘ bag when Sir John "Lad," said hbe, "theer‘s a mistake, Sir John wouldn‘t notice thee if he knowed. We mun tell him thou‘s bin of the property so longâ€"an‘ as good as "Lad," said hbe, Sir John wouldn‘t knowed. We mun of the property so s tenant." : "He‘s i‘ Lunnon, % "fi;'; i‘ Lunnon,." whimpered Will, and then he fell 2â€"sobbing like a child. "I‘veâ€"wortched ‘ere _ fiveâ€"an‘â€"forty â€"â€"â€""*OWD LADS." uy . Nampenenenyh sinn0onmmmn ssrmer ve ; thy | stooped, carefully l:::;;x;‘i'r;';x the | soil little‘ round the root; and then he fattened Next morning, however, the cloud enveloped them afresh; Tommy must go to work and Will remain at home until the letter came to reunite them. It was Tommy who was of the two, the most â€"depressed. t he on his task that Tommy had reâ€" turned from work before he desisted. "Ebh!" said Tommy, "Eâ€"hâ€"b! Whatâ€" iver hasto agate? Thou‘rt a gradely owd! lad as ever I see! My word! thou art »9 ‘"When we‘n }»utten a twoâ€"three ferns an‘ thot, it ‘ull look ‘andsome," reâ€" turned Will, much elated. For the time being their trouble was for%otten: and the pair sat down to tea with gocd appetites and spirits to correspond. _ _ on hand. Heaving a deep sigh, he took off his coat and set to work wheeling soil from the back garden to begin with, and then laboriously buildâ€" ing up a rather topâ€"sided cone with the saltâ€"cellar for an apex. So intent was In the house he knew there was a shell or two, and a broken glass saltâ€" cellar which would come in for the purpose; and in the rubbishâ€"heav near the pigâ€"sty he could find a&couple of blackinf-bottlos and some â€"bricks. Most of the neighbors had rockeries in their _ gardens composed _ of the same materials; Tommy and Will had long intended to erect one on their premises when they had time. Now time, _alas! was a commodity _ of which Will had enough and to spare There was a tiny potatoâ€"plot at the rear of the cottage and when Will had ‘"redded up" indoors he thought he would go and work there. But, alas! it was already so neat, owing to their daily labor "after hours," that not so much as a weed defaced its rows. Will sauntered gloomily round to the front. There was a little grassâ€"plot there, and the idea suddenly strucg him that he would adorn it with a rockery. "Ehb, an‘ whatever ‘ud tak‘ him to write to a little lad same as you," she said. _ ‘"‘Nay, it‘s mich if ever he‘d a notion as our Jimmy wrote at all. The letter ‘ull be sent to ou o‘ course." When dinnerâ€"time came and Tommy had sat him down in very melancholy mood to his bread and bacon, certain wellâ€"known steps were heard to apâ€" proach, and Will slowly drew near. ,_"‘It‘s coom|!‘ shouted Tommy, brandâ€" ishing his knife. ‘‘Nay," said Will, shaking his head dolefully, ‘"not this time, mon. I nobbut coom to say there weren‘t no letter this mornin‘.‘‘ Will hobbled off home w. hout a word. What a long day that was! He got a piece of bacon, thinking he would fry @ alice, and _ then mournfully "aded" it again. "I dunnot seem t‘ave no stoomach for‘t," he said to him«elf, _ No letter bad arrived for Jimmy, and his mother scouted the notion of Sir John addressing such a document to "Abh, so it was!" cried Tommy, brightening up. "Bir John ‘ud very likely put 0‘ th‘ outside James Vose for William Barnes. Ay, thou met just as well look round theer, but sit thee down a bit first an‘ have a bite.‘" ‘"‘Nay ,nayâ€"‘t‘ud choke me," said Will. "I‘ll be toddlin‘ now, an‘ if th‘ letter‘s theer I‘ll soon be back again." ‘"Thot‘s strange |" responded Tommy, sorutchiw his i'a.w meditatively, and eying ill askance. _ "It‘ll happen coom toâ€"morrow," he pursued "Hasto ‘ad thy dinner ?" L S i3 "I dunnot soomwnly fancy Icould heyt," said Barnes. "I niver seem to ‘ave no appytite without I feel I‘ve addled my mate. I think I‘ll jest goo my ways round to Robert‘s an‘ see if his Jimmy‘s yerd nowt. It wur his name as was wrote at th‘ end o0‘ the letter, thou knows." ‘*Ab, I con," agreed Will, slipping off the coat a%am which he had begun to put on. "Fetch my one out along o‘ thineâ€"theer‘s a good lad. I‘ll be with thee afore owt‘s long." wanl ‘"Eh, lad, but th‘ tmon wunnot be coomin‘ this road ?3'} another two hours," said Tommy, deprecatanly. ‘"We met miss himâ€"an‘ yon Penley ul! be bargin‘ if thou cooms wi‘out th letter. Thou con soon foller me, thou knows, if thou gets one." _ _ ‘"*"We‘s happen meet th‘ postmon o‘ th‘ road," he remarked wistfully, breakin(f the gloomy silence which had lasted during breakfast ."If he hasn‘t got no leiter, thou knows I con but turn me back." The week came to an end, however, without an answer from Sir John. Sunday arrived, and Will ‘"cleaned him," and went his way to church in some anxiety of mind. The neighbors looked at him curiously, and one or two of the more intimate.condoled with him; whereupon the old man pulled himself together and remarked cheerâ€" fully that he wasn‘t so takken to as all that came to, adding darkly that hapâ€" pen they‘d soon be hearin‘ summat. __On Monday morning he got up, &8 was his custom before five, and preéâ€" pared to start for his work at the usuâ€" al it thrdrsclobend Rrat were oo in thp sturdy clogg eet were distance the two friends looked at “"3 other, and Will rubbed his hands an chuckled. i4 "it ‘ud ‘"If Penley know‘d," he said, "it ‘u mak‘ his yure curl |" a nd 4 og‘kommy winkold. very ktno:mtll & ed immensely importan y ‘"I‘m sorry tm! th‘ chap,‘ gnrsug% ,‘:’i“. t:‘t'terl a pause, ‘"but he‘s broug it an booa)» 99 ‘"They are sure to know at the postâ€" office," he suggested sagely; Whereâ€" upon his umfla brightened ,“fi and despatched d him forthwith . wit :1;° etter in his pocket and a threepenDyâ€" bit in his hot little hand, twoâ€"thirds of which were to be expended fOr Dis private _ delectation, _ while the reâ€" mainder was to purchase a stamp. | _ white place. Sir John ‘ull know what it â€" means. Nol"w. Jim, let‘s ‘ear it straight through." f Jimmy read out the joint composiâ€" tionâ€"both old men listening with apâ€" proval, and indeed no little _ Pride. Then it was folded and inserted in an envelope, and then a fresh difficulty £Mnted itself. Neither of them new Sir John‘s London address. But Jimmy proved equal to the occasion. There is no danger of bursting a tire, as many riders seem to fear, when the small hand pump is used, and even with the best foot gnmp only the weakest tires coulld be burst. An exâ€" tensive observation has found many tires which are too soft, while one is rarely found too hard. Generally speaking, a small tire reâ€" quires more pressure than a large one, if it is to carry the same weight, and a tire requires more pressure in proâ€" portion to the rider‘s weight. A tire should always contain enough air to kefl) its rim from the ground. If in riding you feel the slightest jar of the rim as your whee!) runs over ordinary obstac‘les, it is because there is not sufficient air pressure. _ _ > YOUR BICYCLE TIRE. Do not let the air out of a bicycle tire that is not in use to "save it." Tires are much better off when standâ€" ing if well inflated, If you are once disappointed in a man never attempt to put him back on his pedestal. The effort always proves a dire failure. When you are grumbling over the beat think of those in the kitchen who have to stand over the fire the best part of the day. Judging by the modest little gowns being turned out by the dressmakers mz}ng' women like to see themselves in print. The younger a woman is the more ta.s_tigious is she in regard to hershirt waist. ‘"Is the lady of the house at homet" is a query that generally indicates the book agent. The woman who finds black becomâ€" ing finds it necessary to a sume mournâ€" ing for her greatâ€"aunt‘s second cousin. Heavy bangs are threatened. Let us trust they will not materialize. Never put gloves away while they are moist. Conspicuously manicured nails are not good form. It isn‘t hard to entertain any one who enjoys reading. The dancing man becomes an idol at the summer resorts. The innately refined woman will not bleach her hair. A sack coat often hides an indifferâ€" ent figure. A black silk stocking is always in good taste. time keen eyes can see within its meshes the silver scales of the salmon wriggling and struggling for a freedom that is his no more. Then comes the uick blow of the killing club, and the 3ea.d fish is tossed into the creels." The work of canning usually lasts about two months. The Chiness can clean about 1,000 fish in a day. Someâ€" times the canners turn out 75,000 cans in twentyâ€"four hours. almost, it cuts into the swift current of the Fraser. There is a minute or two of waiting, and then, with a swish and a great scattering of spray, up comes the net, dank and dripping from the river, having described a rapid semiâ€" circle under water. Once more it is whirled across the moonlight, and this ‘"‘The night fishing is very picturâ€" eathue. You see the dark fiézures of the fishermen standing in bold relief agâ€" ainst the moonlight. Then high in air whirls the big net, sweepintg at the end of its iron bound pole. Deftly, silently Further up, the river being unnavigâ€" able on account of its fierce current %nngk sunken rocks, they cast from the *‘ Nobody who has inot been in the Northwest can have any notion of the awful inrush of salmon duriug a very big year, like the present. single illustration from my personal knowâ€" ledge may suffice. On one occasion I ocrossed a tributary of the Fraser Rivâ€" er literally over a bridge made of salâ€" mon. The fish were quite dead, and had begun to dputrefy. It was quite easy for m{) Indian driver to take the borse and ufifgfi across this extraorâ€" dinary natural bridge, while I followâ€" ed on foot. WITH THE AID OF HORSES. "The net used differs largely from the seines used in Alaska. I can comâ€" pare it to nothing better than a huge m it to nothing better than a huge immock slung lr{ both ends to a pole. Night is the time for fishing operations. The men arrange among themselves for certain stretches of river. Below the delta line they cast their nets from boats with high platformed sterns. goint all fishing is done from the shore y men, and sometimes in exceptional years, © © of the Canadian government. Asked concerning the fisheries he said:â€" _ ‘‘ To begin with, boat fishing does not exist for more than a few miles above the delta of the Fraser. Beyond that It may confidently be asserted that British Columbia and Alaska will this year beat the record with their fish output. ‘The conditions for salmon have rarely been so good and reports of a mammoth rush upstream come pouring in from the Northwest. It is stated that so tremendous is the influx of fish that hundreds are actually forced out of the water and into the boats. John A. Fraser, R.C.A.. the well known landscape painter, spent many years on his namesake river while preâ€" paring a series of views at the instance The fish are running upstream litâ€" erally in swarms ; so close do they run, in fact, that a cance paddled over the surface becomes an instrument of death killing hundreds of salmon in its pasâ€" sage. In the upper tributaries of the Fraser the crash is tremendous, and the certain result will be the practical damming up of these narrow mounâ€" tain torrents with solid masses of dead fish. But, while the waste is expected to be very large, the canning output will also greatly exceed that 0‘ ‘ ious years. > Fish Are Awarming Up the Columbia and Fraser Rivers by Millions and Are Caught by Carloads. ‘Advices from the Fraser and Columâ€" bia Rivers, as well as from Alaska, indiâ€" cate that this will be the largest salâ€" mon year within a quarter of & cenâ€" tury. it down agaim and shook his head'. _"I han‘t th‘ ‘eart fur‘t toâ€"day," he sighed. o . _ A‘il that day he sat indoors, staring into the fire, and occasionally groaning, and when leavingâ€"offâ€"time drew near he walked to meet his crony. THIS IS A BIG SALMON YEAR. THE FEMININE OBSERVRE (To be Cantinued.) TORONTO : D00 L wO l0 CCBn mCS munme mass of milk, says George A. Smith in Farm Journal. When the curd is ha«d enough so that it will cleave from the side of the TTE ET ‘Welanestument ts F _ that it will vat when n _ In making cheese by the dairymen at home, where they do not have a vat with a heating arrangement underâ€" neath, the milk can be heates in a tin heater set in a kettle, in which there is a quantity of water, _A dairy kettlei sthe best, that is, a kettle and stove combimed. If you do not have this, you can use a caldron kettle, set in an arch, if there is draft enough so that it will not smoke, as the smoke would taint the milk ; then by filling the tin heater with milk, and warming it up to about 100 degrees Fabr., and turning it in the vat and filling it up again and heating it, and continuâ€" ing to do so until the temperature of the milk in the vat is 86 cegrees Fahr., it could all be warmed. Then add renâ€" net extract, reduced with one quart of cold water, at the rate of three: ounces to 1,000 pounds of milk, thorâ€". oughly stirred, so that it will be evenâ€". ‘13 'clns‘tbril{xia;dnthmxgh the whole mass to keep warm. _ While wae have all these toothsome things for the pig to indure him to feed himself, we must not forget the dam| and her needs. We want her to be in good flesh, what some would call fat, when she farrows the pigs. Then we have a good founâ€" dation to start on and it should be our aim to keep the sow in good flesh. It is for the benefit of the pigs that we do it, and in the interest of our pocketbook. _ A pig gets but little nourishment pulling at a walking skeleton. The sow has the same feed that the nig has, but she should have more. It must be remembered that she furnishes the most desirable and nourishing food to her litter, and on this account should have extra attenâ€" tion and extra food. We have never been able to feed a sow with whole grain and grasses so well that she would not run down in flesh as the pigs grew older, and their demands became â€" greater. Consequently â€" we have found it necessary to feed soft foods, something that is easily digested, and will encouwrage milk secretions. Middlings and bran have always suitéd us best for this. and besides the abundâ€" ance of other foods that it is so easy to give in the fall, we feed liberally with this. The pigs are apt to get too much grain or carkonaceous food, and it is necessary that they have niâ€" trogenous foods to balance the deâ€" mands of their systems. This they get from the mother‘s milk, when she is well fed with middlings and bran. A pig farrowed early in September has twa of the hbest months in the year to make a start in. And if the owner adds to this his skill in feeding the pig should go into winter stronge and healthy, and make as much for the care given him as the spring pic that every farmer dotes on and tries to prow. ors. Sows nearly always surceed betâ€" ter with fall than they do with the spring litters, because they have taken more exercise, have had grass, and their systems are cooler and more open. If the pigs farrowed in September can have an abundance of the green food mentioned, and what pumpkins they can eat, they will require but little grain. _A limited allowance of new corn will line up the lean and put them in better shape to feel like playing when the frost and snow comes, raâ€" ther than crawling away in shelter This fall we will have both, besides & rye field with the grain, volunteer rye and young clover, that we can use if we wish. _ With all these for the pigs to walk in, we will not have to give much attention to feeding soft foods till cold weather settles, and after we have our crops gathered and in store for winter. Neither will they require much corn to keep them round and plump. The farmer makes a seriâ€" ous blunder when he allows fall piga to go into winter quarters in stock condition, as usually termed by feedâ€" the early spring months. The fall pig can be given much more liberty than his spring brother. He can finâ€" ish up the imperfect gleaning of the spring pig, which is more lazy and quiet because nearing market. We like to have good clover or bluegrass pasture for the fall pigs. @©S®C 4T T mt# ter because she would not have grass or other succulent foods to aid her in recuberating her runâ€"down system after the litter was weaned. The best start then that can be given fall litâ€" ters is to have good strong, aged sows for their mothers. In the latitude of south central Ohio pigs should not be farrowed later than the middle of Ocâ€" tober. If they are later than this they should be styled winter pigs, and the owner should be prepared to give them winter keep. Fall pigs farrowed in Eeptember can be started with less care, and weaned at less expense than March pigs, granting that the sows are large and strong, and in good flesh. _ The several litters should be farrowed as near the same time as possible ; if not, to do well by them in winter they must be assorted and lotâ€" ted according to size, and this every farmer is not prepared to do. Durâ€" ing September there is nearly always sufficient pasture for the cows to get fl_” grass needed to keep up the flow of milk, without the former feeding with the special care in that direction required in the spring. Then durâ€" in the month of September and often during the whole of October, the serupâ€" ulous care is not required in regard to shelter that must be given during second litter generally being termed the fall litter. It is generally underâ€" stood that the first litter a sow farâ€" rows should befarrowed in the spring and this is right. We would not want to start a young sow with a fall litâ€" Just now there is a good deal said and written about two little litters a year, writes John M. Jamison. The FALL PIGS AND HOW TO START OO EL OO 30 0002 2000 PP0C OK CHO when pressed away by laying the MAKING FAMILY CHEFESE. THE FARM. ed and where disinfectants can be freely used. As soon as the peculiar diarrhoea is noticed with any of the fowls, the birds of that lot should be changed to fresh ground and the sick ones killed. The infected excrement showd be carefully scraped up and burned, and the inclogure in which it has been thorough! disinfected with a oneâ€"half per cen!. solution of sulâ€" phuric acid or aâ€"one per cent. so‘ ution of carbolic acid, which may be arplied This is an exceedingly fatal contaâ€" gious disease, which is widely distribâ€" uted over this country, and causes enorâ€" mous annual losses, especially in the central and southern sections. The first symptoms of the disease, say an exâ€" change is, in the majority of cases, a yellow coloration of that part of the excreméent which is usually white, quickly followed by violent diarrhoea and rise of temperature. Other common accompanying symptoms are droopign accompanying symptoms are drooping of the wings, stupor, lessened appetite, and excessive thirst. Since the disease is due to a specific ferm, it can only be introducred into a flock by direct importation of this germ, generally by fowls from infected premises. As soon as the symptoms of the disease are obâ€" served "the fowls should be separa ted as much as possible and given restrictâ€" ed quarters, where they may be observâ€" l the tin heater, and warm up to about 100 degrees Fahr., and turn in the vat, and tc:ontinul:) to dip so, unti‘lmu:le temâ€" rature is brought up to eg rees Eh'r., at which point it should be kept until the curd becomes firm, and when squsezed ug in th ehand it will fall apart readily, and by ukiq% and Bqueezing the moisture out of it, and touching it to a hot iron, it will draw out fine threads about oneâ€"half inch in londgth.. Then draw off all the whey, and stir the curd until the whey is | th'orqu,ghl( drained out of it, and then stir in sait at the rate of two pounds ; of salt to 1,000 pounds of milk. _ Pile | up the curd on the side of the vat, and | cover up with a cloth, and let it reâ€" | main about one hour, stirring it up 0câ€" | casionally, then put to press, and press | llghtlg at first. _ In twentyâ€"{four hours the cheese may be taken out and a muslin bandage put about it. . The cheese should be kept in a cool room, and be turned, and greased, and rubâ€" bed every day. even as possible. Then stir it until the whey begins to separate quite freely. "Then dip off whey, and fill abok of the hand it, cut it, using the perpendicular Enife. and cut as Lumber, Shingles and Lath always â€"<<aili> amm» , Having Completed our New Factory we are now prepared _ to FILL ALL ORDERS PROMPTLY. We keep in Stock a large quantity of Sash, Doors, Mouldings, Flooring and the differâ€" ent Kinds of Dressed Lumber for outside sheeting. Our Stook of DRY LUMRE is very Large so that all orders can be filled. Sash and Door Factory. CHICKEN CHOLERA. In Stocli X_ G. &J. McKECHNIE r ji@ _ "~ ®°"° JoU somelhing foa_itl ethi for it 1 Man, ive me som Dg he cam have it for nothing and walâ€" come, wWoOULD GIVE CRERRFULLY. You‘ve got an awfu) cold, Smit] ers _ Why don‘t you go to a docte :‘du'.‘t bim to l'{:: yow somethin I have come to have a serious inter view with you, announced the would be _ sonâ€"inâ€"law. The old gentleman fell right in witP t::tigga., and made thingll.d so serious e ng man was g to escape without m hat. The certificate was worded as folâ€" *"‘Under a tree, in stormy weather, 1 married this man and woman toâ€" PUIG!‘: let none but Him who rules he thunder sever this man and woman asunder. JTanathuan . Suif riinpvsadihese uit 47 As l book and then and there married them, their witnesses being present ; and, to make the thing complete, he tore a leaf from his pocketbook and with his pencil wrote and signed a certificate w!:gsh he !xl:nded to the bride. CGiven by Dean Swilt at a Rainy Day Wed Dean Swift was wa‘lking in the Phoeâ€" nix Park road, Dublin, when a thun~ derstorm suddenly came on, and he took whelter under a tree, where & party were sheltering alsoâ€"two young women and two young men. One of the girls looked very sad, till, as the rain fell, her teaurLgan to flow. ‘The dean inquired the cause, and learned that it was her wedding day. They were on their way to church, and now her white clothes were wet, and she could not go. "Never mindâ€"I‘l] marry you," said the dean; and he took out hiuurrayer book and then and there married thaa UuNIQUE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE with an ordinary watering pot. Dead birds should be burned or deeply buriâ€" ed at a distance from the grounds freâ€" quented by the fow‘s. The germs of the disease are taken into the system only by the mouth, and for this reason the watering troughs and feeding rtwc- es must be iem thorough!ly free from them, by frequent disinfection with one of the solutions mentioned. Treatâ€" ment of sick birds is not to be recomâ€" mended under any circumstances. The malady rums its course, as a rule, in one, two, or three days, and it can only be checked with great difficulty,. FRIGHATENED aAwaYy Jonathan Swift. _ "Dean of St. Patrick‘s. Engineer \ man Louis 1 explosion of wt Frederick: eAMtrance to the are well. _ Muc but the Diana u without diffi~ul Since the clos ime Fund in Car mdditional su\s three â€" thousan Viceâ€"Presiden ?Old'lln Pactfi amowaver, BC is company ha the questio Yukon. The Hudson from Naetchvan Mr. F. W. T ager of the O rd.l'nltu the his season at 000,000 busbels. ba:ld at one tim iver:lli'l. lun: & t hand ‘Enr:fi & glant 1 e. Mr. 1 forth p may be duty »: which maxes @ and seventyâ€"ni ared and sixty . James M Wflingwn in The o General was laid of 1,500 (: Both, 157 London 1 over the year. Islands, A the North Mr. Thom al Hotel, F ment to Mr about $3 00( _ Miss Sarah fl Coyne, & Co., truviui-»n- ol 11 ‘angaoc.an Lr&de terlerence. and longer cringe t but assert hert Eight person! been poisoned | at Paducah, n} The First =: x_‘n., of whic president, has amounting to The steamer from Dutch H #hiy gre ed with a very while at work few minutes. At Gree: plosion ocec shine con! : recovered. The United S to be Jlmd in month. She is battieship Tow: at Portiand, Portland. ©i The coal sir séttlied. The cents and wor g‘md b f{falo H vatrsinan . die6d from pneumon Lord Charle present a â€"ap! will shortly b rearâ€"admiral!. Women be held wear L preside An eastboundt London on We and thrown d Mayflield, Sus were killed an The Duk an @Appeas funds for which pre prefugoes f1 Melvilie H. V four other occi fured by being land by warnd . The Engl London iro estly warni Fngiish rus warn the pi dyke compa Banker Davi York, is dead. Negroos in a have been war and suburbs. The Queen a Tmesday. At 4 Ballater entlhui lhe ne wprth €x1 winlters . U NB TAE VERY I Interesting trems OGreet Britai All Parts of AsSorted for + Mppor form : Pow ails. eod Duri Al PE rtyâ€"nin M ne d at Ox1 bloomers Li ilerson troleun T DOr R OT 1 PS Oorre y Lor iends GRI H n M 11 \n rre ime DAA 1«